The Epic of Germany And The Sacred Flag
by Cringe
Summary: Germany learns that the gods up in Mt. Roma aren't quite as wonderful as myth would have you believe as he battles lewd satyrs and braves the icy underworld to prove to Ancient Rome that he won't deflower the god's precious son, Italy. Greek Epic AU
1. In which Germany meets Italy

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters within the story belong to the awesome Hidekaz Himaruya.

Warnings: Feeble attempts at epic narrative, and France...that M warning up there? is for France. You have been warned.

AN: De-anon from the hetalia_kink meme. Request was for a Hetalia Pantheon Greek Epic-style AU. Taking OP literally at their request, I went and wrote a Hetalia Greek Epic AU~ Please note, that I am by no means a Classics expert. I am just a Ancient Greek/Roman history and mythology enthusiast, so if there is anything incorrect in my notes feel free to correct me :) Fic is complete, and will be posted in 9 parts + Additional notes (aka a quick summary of the untold myths behind the epic) after I edit them. Many thanks to my awesome best friend Darthbuttercup for the beta :) And please review! I know this completed and all, but reviews are appreciated, particularly if you enjoyed reading it.

**Part 1: In which Germany meets Italy, and Germania and Ancient Rome have a Conversation**

O Sing to me muses! Sing to me of the great warrior Germany, grand Ludwig's son, who battled lewd satyrs of great proportions, and passed through the underworld, to reclaim the sacred flag of Italy once stolen. Sing! So we may recall the meeting of the golden son of Ancient Rome and Florence, and the great son of Ludwig. Remember Italy, hidden from the world within a solid box of sturdy wood as he wept in terror hoping to one day see his glorious skies and beloved pasta once more. Hail the arrival of the brave Germany, grandly returning from the scene of battle. Though weary and tired, the man whose heart was as strong as his might paused at the sounds of cries that seeped through the stolid planks that built the wooden vessel. With a mighty heave, the lid fell free and out sprang the golden son of Ancient Rome in furious terror:

"Ve! Don't kill me, don't kill me, pleeeeease!"

"Who are you…?"

Behold, the clandestine meeting of these two, immortal and mortal, had come to pass as the three fates decreed, witnessed high above in the peaks of grand Mt. Roma, home of the gods. Within the sacred pool of Ancient Rome, the two figures swirled and dipped beneath the eyes of an angered god.

"Eeeeeh? With him of all people?"

And lovely Germania, with flowing locks of gold and frowning visage, god of marriage and women – or womanly men – spoke to his husband with tones of approval:

"Why not? He seems strong, who else would be better to take care of Italy?"

The great god Ancient Rome, king of all gods on Mt. Roma, replied with thunderbolts sizzling with his every word:

"The man, warrior though he may be, is favored by Prussia! Prussia! No other god could be so irresponsible or irrational!"

Germania needed voice no more words. Beneath the heavy of gaze of Germania, Ancient Rome felt as though he had been pierced by a thrust of his own thunderbolts, so great was the weight of his husband's unrelenting disapproval. And so the mighty god conceded for fear of more reprisal from his mate, whose great chest carried the capacity to carry on for much length.

"If this man, Germany, is to take charge of my beloved son Italy, I shall challenge him to undertake a quest to prove his worth as a warrior fit to care for the charioteer of the skies! But you, Germania, are forbidden from aiding but once, as you would champion this young hero."

And thus, Germania was appeased. So the two beholden within the looking pool, continued walking with naught a care in the world, unknowing the plans those meddling gods of Mt. Roma had in store for them. Then Great Germania, wise Germania, knowledgeable Germania, as he stared into the pool questioned his great husband:

"And where shall we find warriors to fight in the next war, if you are continually sending them all out on quests?"

The Great Ancient Rome did not answer, for he was lord of all gods and answered only as he wished.

* * *

Notes:

(1) Florence is a city in Italy, thought to be the birth of the Italian Renaissance. In the Hetalia Pantheon, Florence is an OC and minor goddess, mother of N. and S. Italy.

(2) If anyone is interested in knowing, the 3 fates are Scotland, Wales, and N. Ireland.

(3) Womanly men: In ancient Greece, men who were considered homosexual or not manly men, and/or seemed to actually enjoy a homosexual relationship were considered Womanly men. Although male/male pairings were common and approved of in Ancient Greece, the basis of the relationship was similar to that of mentor and student in which the "student" gained the benefit of his "Mentor's" reputation and resources while the "Mentor" got sex.

(4) Germania says "you" but he's targeting Ancient Rome. Really, he should be saying "we" since all the gods at some point or other meddle in the affairs of mortals and demigods. Particularly if they don't like them.


	2. A visit from Greece and Ancient Rome

**Part 2: A visit from Greece and Ancient Rome**

The unaware Germany, and sunny Italy took their rest beneath the cool shades of the trees besides a crossroad of dirt. As Germany slept, he dreamed, and as he dreamed the god Greece descended down upon his slumber and in his possession was a message from gods greater than he:

"Aaah. Cats. I love them. So soft, and furry, and cute. Mmhm."

Germany beheld the god of dreams, of magic and crossroads, and waited silently, for who was he to interrupt a messenger?

"Japan has some nice cats. There's this lovely one with two heads. So pretty…hm."

Patient Germany, throat dry, coughed to ease the thirst, and froze as the god turned and beheld him within his gaze.

"Oh, right. The great Ancient Rome, lord of those residing in Mt. Roma, wishes – "

Yet Ancient Rome, though grand and powerful was he, was also a god of limited patience and so thrust the sleepy god Greece from the dream and took it upon himself to deliver the message. The great god crossed his mighty arms, with his cape of red flowing behind him and armor of gleaming bronze beheld the mortal man before him.

"Are you so weak that you couldn't even attract a girl? It concerns me that my beloved son insists on being your companion. What kind of warrior are you? Have you ever slept with a female? Hungary has told me that you have not, and continue to resist her."

"…what?"

"A female! I must ease my concerns that you will not be tempted to deflower my precious boy! You have taken pleasure with a female at some point? Boys? Older Women?"

Brave Germany, in the face of such an imposing god could only deny.

"NEVER? So Hungary spoke true?"

And so, brave Germany, fierce warrior, and fledgling hero added Saintly to his list of titles. Great Ancient Rome, with this new found discovery, determined his course of action. With command in his very posture the great god addressed the mortal warrior as thus:

"You may have what it takes, Mortal! So to test your mettle, I give unto you a quest. When you awake, make ready to set upon a journey to reclaim little Italy's sacred white flag of surrender, stolen from beneath his very nose. Prove to me that you are capable and worthy to claim guardianship of my golden son!"

So said the king of all gods, and as the ancient god of Mt. Roma departed he took, too, his beloved son for he would not allow the innocent Italy to accompany the young warrior on his given task. The warrior Germany then awoke to the bright sunlight, alone below trees at the crossroads where he spoke to powers above mortal men.


	3. In which Germany is confused

**Part 3: In which Germany is confused**

The sun bright upon his lids, and green grass beside him empty of Mt. Roma's golden son, the warrior hero Germany woke with a start as the dream departed. His worthy eyes beheld a crossroads of four, of which path to take the mighty mortal did not feel clear. As Germany eyed the paths before him the mighty warrior's spirit began to sink, and, without a thought, great Germany sent a wish to Mt. Rome for aid. No sooner had the request passed him by did Germany wonder if the fleeting request would be honored as gods, like wishes, were flighty beings. And so, as his eyes roved from path to path for the final time, he beheld at the center a woman of beauty. The sun turned her hair a gleaming golden brown as it swayed in the wind, the cloth of green wrapped round the lithe body a brilliant gleam, the small beret sat upon her head matching the unearthly green eyes that shone. Made taller by her proud bearing, the goddess, for this could be no mortal, bestowed upon him a smile and her lovely voice graced him with these words:

"Oh! It's about time you found someone! I was beginning to think you were hopeless! I'll help, but there's a limit, I may aid you only twice on your voyage. So here at the crossroads, you may ask the first."

But Germany, well versed in the lore of immortals, refused to ask and offered in return:

"Bright-eyed Hungary, goddess of love, I have nothing to offer you in thanks for your guidance, needed though it may be."

And bright-eyed Hungary with the long brown hair gave a small laugh that rang through the pathways like bells:

"Heroic Germany, this quest is enough thanks as you undertake it in my name. Now ask your question lest Ancient Rome comes upon us!"

So Germany, for fear he insult the goddess in her moment of generosity, released the first request he would make of her:

"Bright-eyed Hungary, the Great Ancient Rome has set upon me a quest to retrieve the sacred white flag of surrender that once belonged to the greatly beloved golden son of Mt. Roma, Italy, now stolen from beneath his very nose. I humbly request of you to tell me of which path I should take to begin this arduous journey."

And so, request made, great Germany ceased his flow of words and awaited the goddess's response. Hungary, beautiful green eyed Hungary, raised a single long fingered hand and pointed towards a path whose end lay long beyond Germany's sight, and her command to Germany was as follows:

"Brave Germany of great might, take this path and follow it as it winds through hills and past rivers. Take no drink from the springs that flower for the nymphs and sprites are easily angered when disturbed. Kill no living thing for food, and when gathering, give offerings in thanks – be it flattery or other - lest you wake the next morning a tree. Cross three hills and walk until the soles of your sandals begin to wear, and you will reach the revered Oracle of China where you will learn the fate of your quest."

So proclaimed the goddess Hungary as she departed, returning to her home high above in the peaks that overlooked the clouds, home to all gods: Mt. Roma. Germany set upon his back his mighty shield of bronze, and began the journey upon the path bright-eyed Hungary had set him upon.

As he walked beneath the heavy gaze of Italy's golden chariot as it made its way through the skies, as though it were following him, he chanced upon a stream. His thirst grown great he knelt to drink, but as he bent low saw little white flowers bundled upon the rocks. Heeding Hungary's warnings he bowed in apology and left the stream untouched. As he walked further, his thirst grew even greater, and though he had seen many clear streams and springs, naught were lacking flowers.

So humble Germany filled his flask and drank of a stream that was murky and brown, and though the water tasted foul he felt much refreshed for having done so. For, unbeknownst to mortals, that murky stream of muddy brown held mystical properties, and those who drank of it felt renewed vitality as their weariness was stripped away. So was Germany renewed, and he continued with stronger spirits than he had held before.

Soon after, hunger gnawed in the mortal's belly. A dull hunger than grew stronger as he crossed one hill then two. He chanced upon a rabbit, but heeded Hungary's warnings and continued past, leaving the bright-eyed animal free. Further he walked and he chanced upon a doe, heeding the Goddess' warning he let the bright-eyed animal bound away. Hunger lanced his belly, thrusting spears of pain with each step, so he halted and rested beneath the shade of a scraggy tree. As he rested, he felt a brief pain upon his head, looking up he saw a nut fall from the tree and bounce upon his honored brow.

Germany feasted upon the nuts that he now noticed were strewn round the base of the scraggy tree, and offered a flask of murky water behind in thanks as he departed. And so Germany walked, his sandaled feet following the path unerring. As his soles began to wear, the straps frayed, and himself beyond exhaustion he found himself standing before the grand temple belonging to the Oracle of China.

The gleaming temple of red and gold, the very building hot to the touch, such was the famed temple of the Oracle of China. Thus Germany began the ending of his long trek from the forests of his home to this temple in famed lands and placed one foot before the other. For what were another few steps after the journey of miles he had made? So the hero told himself as he began his ascent.

And so, Germany took the final five hundredth step to the top of the temple where he was greeted by the temple priest. Bowing low, the revered priest of the Oracle of China, Hong Kong, gestured him in silently and closed the heavy door.

Great Germany, mighty Germany, stoic Germany, fought not to cough as the atmosphere filled with a heady cloud of smoke that billowed below the stool that sat in the center of the small room. A red clad figure sat upright, his figure in the revered lotus position upon the three legged stool. The priest took his place beside his master, and addressed Germany as thus:

"What request do you wish to make of the Oracle?"

Germany fought the heady smoke that fills the room with as much vigor as he does battle to force the words from his mouth:

"Oh Oracle of China, the Great Ancient Rome has set upon me a quest to retrieve the sacred white flag of surrender that once belonged to the greatly beloved golden son of Mt. Roma, Italy, now stolen from beneath his very nose. I made the journey from my beloved homeland upon the direction of the bright-eyed goddess Hungary who gave unto me in generosity. I humbly request of you to tell me of the quest I must undertake."

The smoke billowed, and the Oracle grew even stiller. As the sight descended upon the god's chosen, the Oracle moaned as he was wracked by visions sent by the immortals of Mt. Rome:

"Aiyaaaa, aru!"

The clenched hands of the Oracle opened and upon the outstretched sacred silver tray held by the priest fell five cookies of fortune. Hong Kong, bearing the sacred silver tray, turned and raised the tray in offering. Wisely, Germany accepted the cookies of fortune and broke them, one by one, making sure to consume each cookie after removing the oracle.

And so, the Great Germany read the fortune the fates had decreed upon him, the five slips spoke thus:

/You will be given a boat/

/You will make many friends/

/You will go very far/

/You will travel where the dead live/

/You will find what you seek beneath a cat/

So the fates had spoken, and the warrior gave a few gold coins as thanks to the Oracle, for he had no other possession to give. As the great Germany took his leave, the Oracle gave as a gift a dozen pandas to bring the hero happiness on his imposed quest, for the Oracle pitied the hero and believed him in need of many good wishes. And so, the great Germany valiantly made towards the shore with a panda twice upon each limb, three to shield the hero's back, and one to shield the head from the imposing light of Italy's sun as he ran his chariot of horses across the sky.

* * *

Notes:  
(1) When Hungary says that Germany is undertaking the quest in her name, it's because he's undergoing this trial out of affection/love for Italy which honors Hungary as the Goddess of love.

(2) The reuse of "bright-eyed" as an adjective coincides with the use of adjectives in Greek epic (or at least Homer, if what is true for the Iliad is true for the Odyssey, not sure about Apollonius' epics since my version of Jason and the Argonauts is in narrative format). In the Iliad, an adjective is often tagged with the name of a hero or god, such as whenever Hera appears, her name is usually proceeded by "white armed". I think it's called an epithet, or a Homeric Epithet as it is most evident in Homeric epics. The words work almost like a second name (another example is "Pallas Athena" or "grey-eyed Athena")

(3) The use of "bright-eyed" when describing the animals, was deliberate ;)

(4) The smoke that is billowing around the Oracle is opium.

(5) Also, there's an overabundance of pandas because for some reason no one wants them...


	4. In which Germany gets a boat

**Part 4: In which Germany gets a boat**

With his fate decreed, Germany walked to the Temple of England to request safe passage upon the stormy waters he would be bound to encounter upon his journey to the ends of the earth, for indeed it is there one might find an entrance to where only the dead live. As Germany enters the grand Temple of England he brought with him a sheep, purchased in exchange for a panda, to sacrifice to the testy god of the seas and the remaining eleven pandas graced upon him by the Oracle of China slung in a bag upon his broad back.

The Head Priest of the Temple, Australia, gathered the sheep in preparation for the sacrifice. And so the beast was sacrificed, the entrails strewn across the stone alter, and bones heaped upon the stone among the rivulets of blood. The Head Priest passed the choice cuts to young Sealand, the young priest in training, who stumbled off excitedly, for a sacrifice to the gods meant the temple would eat well that night. As the bones burnt, and the entrails shriveled in the heat, in the presence of the Head Priest and the god, the warrior Germany made his request:

"Great god of the sea, England, the Great Ancient Rome has set upon me a quest to retrieve the sacred white flag of surrender that once belonged to the greatly beloved golden son of Mt. Roma, Italy, now stolen from beneath his very nose. I made the journey from my beloved homeland upon the direction of the bright-eyed goddess Hungary to the Oracle of China, who bade me sail to the end of the world so I may traverse through the paths of the Underworld and reach the other side. I humbly request of you for a boat as I have no skills with the ocean, and protection from the raging seas."

His request made, Germany retreated from the great alter in wait, for the temperamental god could just as easily deign to ignore his request as grant it. The Head Priest merely looked on, his burly frame imposing, as a koala clambered over his shoulder to drop onto the floor.

"I dunno mate, he'll answer if he wants to."

"I'll answer this time. And Australia, remove your koala, you ponce. It's desecrating my alter!"

So spoke the hooded man, a round black patch shielding an eye from view while the remaining emerald eye, as turbulent as the seas he commanded, glittered at Germany from over the still smoking ashes that had once been flesh and bone. The god then spoke, and in his voice were crashing waves, and churning seas. Such was the power of a god's voice:

"A ship, you say? I'll give you a ship of gleaming gold, the hull pristine, her sails wide and black. So swift a ship that none has seen upon the waters of the mortal man."

So spoke England, god of the seas, for it was his son America, demigod son of England and the mortal woman Seychelles, who had possession of the sacred white flag of surrender belonging to Italy, golden son of Ancient Rome. And so, to protect his beloved offspring from his own incompetence, stormy eyed England would send this warrior to retrieve the cursed sacred flag in order to divert the evil eye Ancient Rome had cast upon his golden haired boy.

"Protection, I cannot give you, for Ancient Rome's power is vast, and punishment severe for those who would get in his way. The ship is all I can spare you, mortal. Go, now, to the shore and you will find her there."

With that final command, stormy eyed England departed. Once more did Germany bow in thanks, and he swiftly departed as commanded to the shore where he found a ship of great beauty, her prow strong and proud. And so, as he gazed upon the swiftest ship on the seas, Germany called her "Gilbird".

* * *

Notes:  
(1) England's refused to be anything but mysterious and hooded while I was writing, but he's normally in pirate regalia which is hinted by the eyepatch.  
(2) If it's not clear, England gave Germany a pirate ship.


	5. Part 5: In which Germany makes many frie

**Part 5: In which Germany makes many friends and encounters a mild setback**

Thus, with thanks to the stormy eyed England, great Germany had his vessel. Now, the heroic mortal simply lacked a crew. A crew to sail the fierce seas, a group of heroes to face the foes he would no doubt encounter upon the arduous journey the ends of the earth. And so, Germany spread word that all who wished to bring honor upon their name, reap rewards and virtues, be set among the books of history for all of time could join him and his quest to retrieve the stolen flag of Italy, Ancient Rome's golden son.

To his cry came hordes of men and women wishing to be a part of this grand quest. But Germany, wise Germany, wished only the best, the most able, the most cunning, to join him on his sleek vessel. "A Game" He declared, "a game to devise the best among you."

But great Germany, though long he thought, could not best decide what great contest these mighty warriors should face. The waiting warriors were uneasy beneath the scalding sun, their sandaled feet shifting in the dust with impatience. Great Germany was aroused from within his mind upon the shouts and laughter from among the now brawling men and women as dust flew and settled upon the shoulders of these heroes of men.

And so, the few that remained that had proved their worth, or could still stand, joined wise Germany on his quest. Among these few were Denmark, great warrior of the Nordics and son of Prussia, Cuba the mighty, and the fierce twins, siblings of the famed Oracle of China, North and South Korea.

So began great Germany's quest, as he set upon the broad blue sea in search of the end of the world with a crew of the greatest warriors of all behind his back. For five days and five nights they rowed, Italy's golden chariot gleaming in the sky above them as it dragged the sun across the sky. Strong were the cries of the men as they rowed, push and pull, a repetitive motion. For five days and five nights they did not tire. Yet high above, when the great Gilbirdstood still on the waves, the angry gaze of Italy's twin glared down upon them from his silver chariot as he raced the moon through the dark sky.

For dark haired Romano agreed with Ancient Rome, and liked not his brother's choice in companion. So fierce Romano of the dark hair and dark eyes, virgin god of the hunt, silver son of the great king of gods descended the moon and set for the end of world. Swift of feet and no short on skill, the heavenly silver archer fled through his blessed fields of tomato and past the trees he held dear. Ran he did, past all of mortal knowing, the edge of his noble silver chiton weaving about his knees. And so dark haired Romano fled to the caves at the edges of the earth, to where the great winds of the world were held captive. Furious, dark haired Romano, silver son of Ancient Rome, approached the caverns with little fear and beheld the wind within.

"Great North Wind, great General Winter, my stupid young brother the golden son, Italy, has found an unworthy companion. This stupid potato bastard is now on a voyage in a ship gifted him by meddling England, god of seas, to reclaim Italy's sacred flag. So great North Wind, whose breath turns all to ice, makes gods shiver, and turns Ukraine's harvest to a wilting crop covered in frost, blow the treacherous bastard off course. Coat the sails in ice, freeze the vessel solid, and sink it in the sea!"

So spoke dark haired Romano as he raised his magnificent bow of gilded silver and released the lock that held the noble wind captive within the cage of stone. Steel eyed General Winter, wind of the North, spoke thus, the air icing with his very breath and the air chill and still:

"Son of Ancient Rome, greatest of the Hetalian pantheon, I could indeed coat the sails of even a vessel crafted by the god of the seas, I could indeed sink a vessel with a single cry that would bring sleet and snow, freezing those who steer and sinking the ship to the depths of England's domain. All this I could do, silver son of Mt. Roma, all this I could do if you had released me from my cage. Instead, the mighty silver bow of yours has led you astray, and the arrow graced upon you by your father has stricken the lock that holds my brother the West Wind."

And, to dark haired Romano's great dismay, spoke true the chilling North Wind, for as the cold General Winter had spoken the gentle West Wind had flown free of his cage and gracefully skimmed over the ocean, the air warm and quiet in his wake as he brought forth the fresh scent of oncoming spring. Then did Romano, dark haired Romano, despair for the gentle West Wind would harm nary even a fly. Dark haired Romano returned to Mt. Roma steeped with disappointment.

Onward flew the West Wind, soft gusts of air gently twining about as he breathed warmly across England's domain. Yet, though he had not been the one the dark haired Romano meant to release, the wayward West Wind felt indebted to the young god. So, as he came upon the swiftly moving vessel the gentle West Wind blew upon the large black sails as hard as his gentle breath could allow. Gently, gently, did the West Wind blow and so pushed the ship ever so gradually and gently away from its intended path. And so did dark haired Romano discover that his troubles had not been for naught as he was greeted by his exuberant father.

"Wonderful idea, my silver son! If only I had thought of it first. But I did not. And so I say, well done again! For the mortal was to undertake this journey alone, and so it suits me to have his craft of fine warriors be sent astray! For this I give you a gift. A tomato! I know they are your favorite."

Sharp tongued Romano with flashing dark eyes would have retorted in anger as his sacred fruit was placed upon his brow, but for the appearance of golden haired Germania, whose face was set in anger. So as not to be withheld between the two warring gods did dark haired Romano flee back to his dark forests and beloved tomato patches.

"Treachery!" Exclaimed golden haired Germania, eyes sharp as flint. "Ancient Rome, you set the boy upon this quest with no word of how the deed be accomplished, and here I find you meddling at the slightest action which displeases you."

"Treachery? Unheard of! The boy was to undertake this alone! Has he not read the lore of myth and legend? Of heroes near and far? Alone I say, do the bravest ones perform the quest imposed upon them!"

"Unclear! Mortal minds have no concept of the immortals and understanding is beyond them. Simple, simple, minds. You ask too much!"

"I ask not enough! For I would entrust to him my most beloved son, and at your behest! So cease your nattering! I have had enough!" Proclaimed the great king, thunder in his voice and lightning in his eyes as he dared his immortal husband to push further, for all of Mt. Roma was in disarray, the anger and force of quarrelling gods violent enough to shake the very mountain.

And unbeknownst to the angry gods, the sacred looking pool of Mt. Roma quelled and shifted, the stilling waters converging upon a particular wayward vessel as it drifted upon the seas, the small peaks of a stranded island coming into view upon the distant horizon.

* * *

Note:

Chiton: A robe-like dress worn by ancient greek men and women, although the outfit was considered more feminine than masculine dress. Females wore it floor length, while males wore it shorter. Artemis is usually depicted as wearing a knee length chiton.

West Wind: one of the 4 greek winds (the others being, North, South, and East). The West Wind was the wind that heralded spring, and was soft and warm.


	6. In which there are attempted orgies

**Part 6: In which there are attempted Orgies**

"Ho!" cried the watchman from his perch upon the mast, "Ho, land I see! Land! An island lush and green. Surely we can replenish much needed supplies upon that verdant island!"

And Germany eyed his crew, damp and wet, their spirits low despite Denmark's wild laughter as the mist and fog had rolled in with no warning, the warm moist wind foiling their sails, the fog drenching their sight till they could see no further than their own hand. And lo, when the fog had lifted they found themselves adrift upon the waves, navigation hopeless upon the unmarked expanse of England's land. And as they pondered, the Gilbird drifted, and drifted, until lo upon the horizon the watchman spotted land. So Germany, brave Germany, set the ship's course towards the isle of green, for to refuse would cause his men to mutiny, lost as they were.

With a sharp shock that shuddered through her hull, the great vessel Gilbird beached upon the sandy white shores. Exhilarated, men jumped over the great sides of Gilbird's hull, impatient to reach land after so many days adrift.

"Stay close!" Cried Germany, as he eyed the bountiful island with a wary eye. But no sooner had he spoken then did appear a tribe of nymphs clad in a raiment of blue and red, the lace that adorned the edges of their dress fluttering flirtatiously in the wind, their eyes lowered coquettishly as they beckoned with the sway of their fair limbs. So long at sea, so far from the soft pleasures of the flesh, the men's blood ran hot as coals and all stood transfixed at the sight, struck by mischievous Hungary's gentle touch but for Saintly Germany, protected by bright-eyed Hungary's blessing. And lo, before Germany could send a wary call did the men disappear into the undergrowth in pursuit of the fair nymphs that fled from them. Young North Korea, the lone woman, soon too left in hot pursuit of the lusty men, for bereft of her brother she refused to be.

Germany now stood alone upon the ship's prow, and thought to go and seek his men lest they fall into foul hands. And so, the great warrior descended from his mighty vessel onto the sandy shores. So thick was the foliage, so vibrant and green, that Germany was forced to pull his sword and thrust and cut his way through the undergrowth. Only when there was sweat upon his brow, and his clothing soaked with sweat, did Germany finally clear a way through the foliage and stumble into a clearing full of grape vines and wild roses vibrant red with health.

In the clearing, lying upon a long slab of rock that overlooked a lovely spring of cool, clean water lay a man of almost feminine beauty, sparkling blue eyes holding sweaty Germany in their half lidded gaze. The being reclined, a rose in a hand trailing through the spring's clear water, naked as the day he had been born save for a bundle of roses that shielded his virtue. Slowly standing, the long limbs untangled, the mane of gold that sat above that fair face gleaming in the light of Italy's chariot. Struck dumb, brave Germany, saintly Germany, wise Germany could naught but stare at the gleaming being as it slunk towards him smiling widely:

"Ah you look tired, non? What brings you to my lonely little isle, mon coeur?"

Germany retreated; the fair faced, long limbed, creature with the alluring smile merely laughed and retracted the hand that had stroked upon the stricken mortal's cheek. And surely wise Germany realized that he was in the presence of a god, for no nymph or mortal was so fair. Brave Germany, saintly Germany, coughed to ease the thirst building in his throat and answered thus:

"Fair god of wine, of joyful worship, and ecstasy, of celebration and madness; oh fair god, the lovely France, the Great Ancient Rome has set upon me a quest to retrieve the sacred white flag of surrender that once belonged to the greatly beloved golden son of Mt. Roma, Italy, now stolen from beneath his very nose. I made the journey from my beloved homeland upon the direction of the bright-eyed goddess Hungary, who gave it unto me in generosity, to the Oracle of China, who bade me sail to the end of the world so I may traverse through the paths of the Underworld and reach the other side. Upon the vessel given me by great god England I sailed the waters with a crew of fine men, yet blown off course by a gentle West Wind were we and found ourselves stranded upon your shores. All my men were allured away by nymphs and I alone remained upon the ship, so here now I stand in search of my fellows."

So spoke Germany, brave warrior of the Gilbirdnauts, and to the tale did fair limbed France listen, closing the distance between the mortal and he, the god pulled the warrior close and so said:

"You say you have met young Italy have you? Ah, but he was here not so very long ago! Upon the behest of his father did darling Italy travel to my humble abode, for the Great Ancient Rome believed him ready to expand his boundaries! But the young ganymede was not so enamored of my efforts to expand his education and so disguised himself as the box of wine that was to be shipped from my island! But none of that, a quest you say? How very daring! It sounds full of danger, and such a beau as you should not be in danger, mas non! So tired were you, as you stumbled into my clearing, that you deserve a much needed rest. So stay here, mon chéri, for I have been lonely these past few years!"

No sooner had fair limbed France spoken, did Germany find his vital regions assaulted by an insistent hand. But Germany, Saintly German of virtue refused the advance and exclaimed:

"What are you doing?"

"Oh? Why, have you never felt the pleasure of flesh? Of the joys and decadence of wealthy living? I shall have that not! Upon myself I take it, to educate you!"

And so Germany, saintly Germany of intact virtue, found himself divested of all clothing until all that covered him were the tattered remnants of his clothing wrapped around his loins. Thus, brave Germany found himself struck dumb at the god's audaciousness, and fended off advances with the might of a single mortal arm against an immortal's might.

And to this tableau did dark haired Romano appear, for he had been sent by his godly father to retrieve a casket of wine for the inhabitants of Mt. Roma. But no sooner did he appear than Romano spied the hapless Germany pinned beneath a determined France's loving embrace, a single arm fending the onslaught of the immortal's greedy hands. So great was the dark haired Romano's mirth that the moon that evening trembled as it was pulled across the sky by Romano's silver chariot from the god's hearty laughter .

"Oh France, how low have you fallen. Are you so lonely that you are forced to keep this for company?"

And fair limbed France, face pressed away by Germany's insistent hand did respond, though his lovely voice was muffled by the press of the mortal's strong hand upon his cheek:

"If only your great Father, wise Ancient Rome, had not reduced me to this! What great sin did I commit that led me to be imprisoned upon this island paradise and banned from the great Roma Games? For surely to wish for joyful worship amidst the games is not too much to ask? Ah to be laid so low and reduced to only nymphs and satyrs for company!"

So lamented the fair limbed France, who with renewed vigor pushed aside great Germany's hand and using his immortal guile momentarily slipped past the Saintly Germany's defenses and squeezed the warrior's hidden backside in satisfaction. Saintly Germany, with tears in his eyes, gave a wordless shout.

"It is as you deserve, you potato bastard!" Proclaimed dark haired Romano. And dark haired Romano, silver son of Ancient Rome, departed from the isle with tears of mirth welling in his eyes for so immense was his laughter no one would receive a coherent word from him that evening. Fair limbed France, so cut off from all, overpowered the hapless warrior as the desperation of a denied god was stronger than that of a human warrior defending his pride. So strong was the god of ecstasy, for that was who he was for now, that brave Germany, heroic Germany of honor could think of only one way to halt the assault upon his virtue. Germany then called upon the gods for strength, for surely some still heard him, as he lifted one mighty leg with swift speed and kneed the unsuspecting god in the balls. With a cry of pain did France's embrace end, and so did Germany flee from that clearing of decadence. But France was immortal, his balls made of steel, and France recovered near immediately. So angered was the god that in his pain he called upon his followers, the lewd satyrs, and set them upon the fleeing Germany only moments after he had fled.

And so did Germany run, run in haste to the raucous, lusty calls of the goat men that pursued him, the heavy tromp of the hooves as they pounded through foliage constantly behind him. Flee did Germany, flee for his life and virtue. Through underbrush did the warrior run, past exotic trees that scratched and needled him as he flew past. Though of great strength, even among mortals, was Germany, the Isle of France was of immortal make and so the brave warrior could never reach the shores that held his ship. Ran, did Germany, ran he did, until his feet felt heavy, his body weary, and his breath exhaled in loud gasps that were only exceeded in sound by the heavy pounding of hoofed feet steadily gaining upon him. Desperation upon him, Germany thought to climb a tree, for perhaps the hooves of goats made for poor climbing, but then a hand descended upon his shoulder and his feet felt swift and light. And so, as Germany turned his weary head did he behold Austria, winged messenger of the gods whose winged sandals he now wore upon his own weary feet.

"Fly!" said the messenger of Mt. Roma, leader of souls to the underworld, "Run swiftly and fear not for exhaustion, for my winged sandals will carry you far beyond mortal comprehending."

Though thankful, Germany was well versed in the lore of immortals and so he felt forced to question,

"Swift Austria, messenger of Mt. Roma, leader of souls to the underworld, I thank you with the utmost gratitude for your assistance, but why do you assist me? I have no offering to give to you in thanks."

Swift Austria, he of the winged sandals, answered thus with a grimace upon his fair face:

"No thanks are needed as I do this to help you escape the clutches of France, that awful immortal. You are not the first to have met his desires, nor will you be the last. But suffice it to say that I will not stand by while he gropes another passerby."

No further words were needed and so did Germany pick up his feet and run, marveling at the swiftness of the messenger god's fabled sandals. Germany breezed past trees, ran so swiftly his feet barely touched the ground, the sounds of the Satyrs' hoofed feet falling far behind as he ran toward his ship with Austria beside him keeping the trees from whipping upon the mortal's head. No sooner than what seemed to be a moment had passed, and Brave Germany found himself upon his vessel, feeling no more winded than he would be from a heavy run. As he made to offer the winged sandals back to the god, swift Austria shook his head and the words he spoke followed as thus:

"Keep them. You may need them before the quest is done, and I have many more at my disposal."

And in regards to Germany's unvoiced desire to search for his companions the swift messenger said:

"In this you are to continue alone. Your companions are beyond your reach, for though the oracle told you to gather a crew, the journey must be completed by you alone. So to you I will tell how to find an entrance to where the dead live: sail 3 days and 3 nights towards the sun at its zenith and you will see a cave. Descend through and you will find the boatman. And with this I depart: I wish you the best of luck."

So saying, the great messenger of Mt. Rome, swift Austria, flew to the skies and departed for Mt. Roma, a journey that would take him many days for without his winged sandals the god himself, the great swift messenger god who led souls to the underworld, without his winged sandals had no sense of direction.

* * *

Notes:

mon chéri = my dear/darling

mon coeur = my sweet

beau = handsome

Roma Games = Hetalia Pantheon version of the Olympic Games

And yes. What France means by the whole joyful worship thing is an orgy. He attempted to start an orgy (and knowing him, was nearly successful but the plot was probably foiled by America who wasn't reading the atmosphere or something and stumbled onto his plans.)


	7. In which Germany Saunters Vaguely Downwa

**Part 7: In which Germany**** Saunters Vaguely Downwards and learns the meaning of evil**

Following the swift Austria's directions, the warrior Germany steered the mighty vessel Gilbird towards the ends the Earth, always using the great chariot of Italy at its zenith as his lodestone. For three days and three nights did brave Germany sail, unerringly following the direction given him by swift Austria, and on the eve of the third night did he expect to see land upon the horizon.

Yet, upon the dawn of the fourth journey of Italy's chariot from when brave Germany had set from the Isle of France, and the end of Romano's nightly ride was there still no land to be seen. The great vessel Gilbird sailed unerringly onward, for surely a god would not direct him falsely. The fifth day dawned, as did the sixth, and when Italy rode across the sky upon the seventh did Germany feel false hope, for he had no more rations to spare. In despair, he sent a cry that pierced Mt. Roma, and golden haired Germania heard and heeded the call. The great god, husband to the lord of all in Mt. Roma, descended upon a sleeping Germany and spoke to him in his dream:

"Germany, brave mortal warrior, perhaps we were mistaken in sending Austria. As he has not yet returned, I assume he is lost somewhere and unable to find his way home. Foolish god, lost without his sandals, and useless without his music. Brave mortal, I will tell you how to find the end of the world, follow these directions without fail and you will find yourself at an entrance to the underworld. Follow Italy's golden chariot as it races through the sky, follow with your mighty vessel and at the rise of the fourth beginning of Romano's silver ride will you beach upon a shore. There, you will find what you seek."

Great Germany awoke, sweet Italy in his grand chariot smiling down upon him. With renewed hope Germany hoisted the sails and followed the gleaming chariot of the sky as it led him to the end of the world, and rested in the silvery gleam of Romano's steeds for the surly god would lead him astray if he could.

And as the golden haired Germania had promised, upon the eve of daylight sun as Romano was readying his steeds in the east, did the Gilbird beach upon a sandy shore at the mouth of a lonely cave. Down, in the eerie mouth did Germany descend. The air chill, and a light breeze wafted from the depths of the giant maw, and as Germany slowly descended, light disappeared and the air grew silent.

Germany walked, stumbled, for the light had no place in this world and so Germany, blind as a newborn dog, was forced to feel his way down rocky paths to the near inaudible moans that often drifted from below to the soft swish of still waters on a shore.

For how long he walked, Germany could not say. time too had no place here, but soon the mortal warrior felt his shoes touch upon the grain of sand for the descent of stone had finished. And Germany spied an eerie light emitting from beneath the floating disc that hovered silently above the still waters of the black river Daugava.

And there, standing before the strange vessel was the small gray Ferryman of the underworld. Small Tony, with his large eyes, watched as the brave Germany approached and extended a small thin gray limb with its hand outstretched.

A toll, Germany knew, a toll to cross the Daugava River, a toll to be ferried to the land of the Underworld and request safe passage of the rulers of the land of the dead. Into his pouch did Germany reach, retrieving a single gold coin that he had found beneath the pile of eleven pandas that had been sleeping upon it in the bowels of his ship, and dropped the gold piece into the outstretched hand.

Toll paid, small Tony meandered atop his strange disc shaped vessel. Brave Germany heard a small hum like the sound of many flies hovering about his head and soon found himself enveloped by a bright light. Thus, Germany made his passage across the Daugava River towed across the still obsidian water by an ephemeral beam of pulsing white light.

As the still waters of the river passed below, Germany believed he saw the unfortunate lost souls of the dead who had not been able to pay the toll drifting about the icy waters. Such thoughts were not lost upon him, and the great warrior shuddered and looked about instead of below, for he had also heard of the underworld's fierce watchdog, yet none had he seen. So he sent a call above:

"Is there not a guardian at the entrance of the underworld?"

Small Tony, grey hands upon the two mighty sticks that steered the strange disc, lifted a long fingered grey hand and pointed to the small isle that they had begun to pass. And so, as Germany gazed he made out the small form of a boy with curly blond hair, the violet eyes unsuccessfully, but valiantly, attempting to halt themselves from tearing. The watchdog of the underworld barked as he hurled stones at the small craft:

"W-what are you doing here? Go a-away! We don't want you here! Leave!"

But the mighty watchdog Latvia was quelled by a single glance from mighty Germany's blue eyes and the great guardian disappeared from view, save for the trembling peaks of his hair visible from behind a rock. So passed mortal Germany from the land of the living to the realm of the dead, and as he landed upon the cold, wet, shore of land he shivered for the world of the rulers of the Underworld was cold and covered with snow that blitzed and swirled furiously about. The air was so thick with flakes of cold snow, the chilling wind biting at his skin, great Germany felt frozen as he stumbled his way to the palace of the rulers of the dead.

As he stood in the presence of the great and fierce some lord of the Underworld brave Germany, for the first, felt fear as he was beheld in the cold ruler's blue gaze.

"What are you doing here?"

And Germany, poor brave Germany, mustered the courage to answer the icy god of the Underworld:

"Belarus, noble Belarus, lord of the Underworld and all the dead, I come in the midst of a task bequeathed upon me by Ancient Rome, and wish to seek safe passage through the realm of the dead so that I may reach once more the land of the living to resume the quest given me."

Belarus, cold Belarus, with a flip of her pale hair and glowering eyes refused his request vehemently:

"Denied! Leave us alone! What cares have we of those fools atop Mt. Roma and their meddling with the affairs of mortal. We wish to only be left alone."

Then Russia, smiling Russia, consort of Belarus lord of the underworld, brother of Ukraine from whom he was stolen amongst a field of sunflowers calmed his lord and the words he spoke were thus:

"It seems we need to retrain the guard dog, Belarus. Go retrieve Latvia. I shall take care of this, da?"

Spoke Russia with a smiling mouth and frozen, frozen, violet eyes. Belarus of the underworld smiled at her chosen partner in return, and caressed his cheek with a fond hand in acquiescence. As the great and frightening underworld ruler departed, the mild gaze of smiling Russia pierced into brave Germany and the consort of the underworld lord beheld him in his gaze:

"You wish safe passage, da? I can give it to you, but you must do something for me in return. As you return to the surface, above this realm of dead, fetch me the young prince Lithuania for I have missed him so. He is in the possession of that annoyance of a demigod, America, who took him from my possession as a part of his tasks set upon him by lovely Germania. So, a deal struck and you may go."

Though brave Germany wished to agree, for no other way could he think of that would allow him to journey safely back to the surface of the world of the living from this desolate wasteland of ice and snow, the thought of kidnapping some poor soul to give into Russia's possession left honorable Germany with no choice but to refuse. And so, to smiling Russia he said:

"As much as I wish to fulfill your request, Russia, consort to Belarus lord of the Underworld, I fear I cannot for my honor will not allow it."

Smiling Russia's mouth lifted further, his eyes colder, and as he departed he remarked:

"So you will freeze then, mortal, and become one with the underworld."

With a thunderous slam, the great doors to the palace of the underworld rulers closed finitely and brave Germany left in the cold harsh snowing winds of the underworld plains.

* * *

Notes:

Daugava river/River Daugava = hetalia pantheon version of the river Styx, the river that separated the land of the dead and living in Greek myth. The real Daugava River is a major river that extends through Russia, Belarus, and Latvia.

Also, I changed the summary. Yes/No?


	8. In which Germany has an Awesome time

**Part 8: In which Germany has an Awesome time**

There sat brave Germany, warrior of Europa, amidst snow and ice as the treacherous winds of the underworld bit and tore at his exposed flesh for even the North Wind, General Winter, held nothing next to the freezing might of the winds belonging to the dead. Frozen and fearing, great Germany stood, for though the plains looked desolate and abandoned the dead lurked in every corner and fearsome creatures belonging below the land of all things alive stalked the rugged snow capped world. And so brave Germany walked, for there was nothing else the mortal could do but brave the elements though he did not know the way through for traps and pits laid concealed amongst the underworld.

Then, just as great Germany had feared, he heard a fearsome roar thunder through the still air. And as the warrior turned his head so saw he the bright red eyes of an underworld creature come ever closer. Then did Germany turn and flee from the creature blindly, and only fortune kept him from stepping into a trap, but as he ran and as the creature grew closer great Germany recalled the gift Austria had bestowed upon him that he held in his pouch. Fumbling, the great warrior reached in and the winged sandals of Austria fluttered out. Of their own accord, the sandals of an immortal wrapped themselves upon his wearied feet, his own footwear having long since fallen to the snow.

And so did Germany then lift into the air, body light and weightless, and none too soon, as the thwarted creature roared in anger as the swipe of its massive limb full of claws missed the mortal. With hope that the messenger god's shoes held more direction than the swift god himself, for surely the shoes that lead the souls of mortals to the underworld would know the path back, did Germany than fly swifter than the chilly winds that he flew past. And the winged sandals led him past the land that inhabited the souls of the damned, past the lands of the gloried, past all lands of the dead and into the brilliant sunlight of Italy's chariot as he circled the globe.

Germany basked in the warmth as he emerged from the cave to sit upon a rock, relishing his return to the world of the living. And so, just as brave Germany, heroic warrior, bent to remove the sandals of swift Austria a loud voice interrupted the quiet, startling the stoic mortal from his perch:

"Eh? Are those from the bastard Austria? He gave you a gift before me? Those wussy sandals? I, Prussia, will give you something much more awesome than winged sandals!"

And lo, as Germany straightened from where he lay upon the firm earth he raised his head to behold the white clad god of War, his iron cross emblem emblazoned in black upon his dress, his fierce red eyes flashing from beneath a fringe of platinum hair.

"Unforgivable! I am far too awesome to have come after that stuck up aristocrat Austria, always flying about on his fancy shoes. I was even going to come when you were snoozing with little Italy, but it was not to be. Crazy woman, shit, my head still hurts. To make up for that wimpy gift, I have brought two gifts for you! Hah! Take that, Austria you prissy bastard!"

So saying, fierce Prussia presented in one hand a shield that shone silver, gleaming more brilliantly than any Germany had ever seen, and in the other was clasped a spear whose tip shone so brightly that the tip disappeared for so sharp was the weapon:

"To you I give the shield of awesome might! It will defend you against anything and is impenetrable, and second, the spear of even more awesome might, able to pierce anything whether it be immortal or no! Crafted of the same material my iron cross is made, sculpted in the depths of Mt. Roma by…eh….who was it again…? No matter! Aren't my gifts awesome? Of course they are! You got them from me! I couldn't give my favored warrior anything less than the best, could I? I saw you on the battle field, and I fought beside you. So fierce and honorable, you were almost as awesome as me!"

Dumbstruck Germany, could only nod in agreement, words had been lost for fierce Prussia was truly that awesome. But without words, silent Germany could only watch as vengeful bright-eyed Hungary advanced upon fierce Prussia and upon the fierce god's brow fell a gleaming frying pan with such might that the great god of war fell unconscious. Fierce Hungary, bright-eyed goddess of love, picked up the limp war god with a single slender hand and hefted him upon one shoulder. Turning a gentle smile upon brave Germany she said:

"And so, my second act of aid has been given, saving you from this rambling god. Now go, for what you seek is very near. Through these very trees, in fact, lay the prize you need. So go through this foliage and claim your prize. I wish you the best of luck."

With that, bright-eyed Hungary disappeared, departing for the great peak of Mt. Roma

* * *

Notes:

(1) Poor Canada. He's always being forgotten.


	9. In which Germany decides to never own a

**Part 9: In which Germany decides to never own a pet**

As the gods took their leave, wise Germany knelt forward and took the mighty shield of awesome and the spear of even more awesome that the fierce Prussia had given unto him as gifts. Hefting the new weapons, the mortal warrior marveled at the lightness of which the mighty weapons felt as he shifted both spear and shield comfortably. While he admired the new gifts, there came a great yowl and screech of anger so powerful the trees shuddered in fear. Brave Germany donned his new gear, glinting silver and shining in the light as he bounded through the undergrowth and dashed past trees until he fell through into a clearing that lead to the sea.  
There, in the center of the grassy plain, stood a cat, upon its shoulder lay two ferocious heads that snarled and slavered at the brave man who danced before it.

"Ahahaha! You think you can eat me? Eat the great Hero, America? I don't think so you fat cat. Two heads are not better than one, because I'm going to defeat you!"  
So saying, the proclaimed America, son of England, dashed forward with his bare hands and wrestled with the mighty feline, Neko, one of Titan Japan's great cats, whose paws were twice the size of the demigod's own head, equipped with fearsome claws, its body easily five times the size of a horse.

But America, fearsome heroic America of legendary strength, pinned the mighty cat with both arms.

"You see, you may have impenetrable skin that I cannot pierce, but I can crush you with brute strength! I'll pummel you into the dust!"

Though America's words were strong the hero had forgotten of the ropy tail the wily cat had its disposal. And so as the great two-headed feline whipped forward its snakelike appendage heroic America was struck unaware and fell to the earth dazed. Quicker than lightning did the mighty cat then pounce upon the hapless warrior that lay prone upon the dusty Earth with open maws, fangs the size of Germany's hand. But quickly recovering, America did then stretch out both hands and clench a fang of each fearsome head. With the strength of a demigod, and more for even among demigods America possessed an incredulous amount of strength, did America keep from being shredded and strewn about the clearing.

And to this tableau did Germany stand and witness. Claim his prize, had said bright-eyed Hungary. Surely she had not meant this man who wrestled with cats in the dust. Though Germany grew confounded, he hefted his mighty shield of awesome and his gleaming spear of more awesome for no matter the reason, this man was the key to obtaining what he sought. So, with that thought in mind, daring Germany charged forward and with a mighty yell thrust the spear of more awesome that could pierce anything. So hard did Germany thrust his mighty weapon that the point of that magnificent shaft slid through not one skull, but two. As the dust settled, there lay upon the dusty earth, one dead feline and a hero much aggrieved:

"What? It's dead? But I wanted to kill it! I was about to kill it. Y'know, do a twisty leg thingy, slingshot it into the air and then pow! Knock out! Pfft. You only beat me to the finishing blow; I had already weakened it with my heroic super strength for you. Hmph."

Brave Germany refrained from mentioning the hero's bloody hands that had been occupied with the beast's mouth. Heroic America looked at Brave Germany, face dusty and shining with sweat as he looked through the glass lenses the rested upon the bridge of his nose:

"Eeh. But I'm hungry now, and the cat's dead - dammit, I wanted to kill it - since you've proved yourself as heroic as myself, I shall allow you eat lunch with me!"

So saying, heroic America hoisted himself upright with a mighty surge and stood with an outstretched palm towards the brave Germany. Germany's firm palm met the strong dirty palm of heroic America and they clapped hands in greeting. Then heroic America proceeded to skin the cat, for impenetrable skin could come useful, and with their combined strengths lugged the massive pelt towards a corner of clearing far from the flies that had already begun to swarm the corpse. Together they stretched in the sunlight, and from the forests came gentle Lithuania carrying a paper bag full of food. In a circle they sat, far from the curing pelt, for already the blood beckoned insects with its iron scent. A burger in hand, a pile beside heroic America for a hero needed sustenance, sat all three and as they ate Germany recounted the long tale of his quest, but heroic America with his mighty chewing could hear little of it:

"Eh? What?"

And so Germany once again attempted to recount his tale, only to be met with a similar response:

"Eh? Come again?"

Upon the fifth recounting, Germany desisted and ate in silence. However, as he ate and observed his two mealtime companions in silence, awareness gradually dawned that the white cloth clenched in America's hand greatly resembled that of the lost sacred flag of Italy. And so, brave Germany attempted to request America. The following conversation was made of many repetitions of the following:

"America, I would like to request you…"

"What?"

"I am in need of…"

"I can't hear you!"

And so as Italy ran his chariot from the zenith to horizon and as Romano's steeds began to stir did they banter to and fro these two heroes. Until finally, did the pile of burgers dwindle to nothing besides the heroic America and his chewing grew silent.

"Eh? Did you want something?"

Brave Germany merely pointed, for his voice was hoarse and coherency now lost, to the white cloth that shone despite the dirt and grease that America had been using it to mop.

"Huh? Oh. This? You want the napkin? Why didn't you say so! Hahahahaha! It's nothing! Not even mine! I merely picked up from the ground in a forest a while ago thinking it would make a good napkin. Come to think of it, it was lying next to a really big box of wine…Anyway! Yeah! Here!"

And so, Germany took the sacred flag from a willing America, for it was indeed the sacred flag. Despite the grime that covered it, the suppleness and gleaming whiteness was still evident even beneath all that covered it for the Sacred With Flag of Surrender that belonged to Italy, golden son of Ancient Rome, was unmistakable in its whiteness for only the purest color could hope to be seen amongst a battle of blood and flying dirt. Clenching the flag Germany thanked America for the meal and departed with not only the flag, but the cured skin of the two headed Neko for America had no need of it and decided to gift it upon the brave warrior who had assisted him in its defeat.

So now alone, at the end of the world where the only way back was by sea or once more through the land of the underworld did Germany rest against a tree. And in his slumber did Ancient Rome descend once again, his beloved golden son Italy accompanying him. In the dreaming Germany's thoughts did Ancient Rome speak these words:

"Ah, so you did have what it takes! Hmph. I'm still concerned, but I swore upon the River Daugava that I would relinquish the care of my beloved son, Italy to you upon the retrieval of his sacred flag. And so quest completed, I grant you your reward. May you never cease to treasure it."

And so did the golden son of Ancient Rome then spring from where he had hidden behind his great father and fly into Germany's waiting embrace.

"And as my final gift to you and my son, I would have you ask of me one thing, and I will grant it should it be in my power."

And high above in great Mt. Roma, did all the gods watch the triumphant end to the quest imposed upon the mortal warrior Germany.

"As I thought, he was worthy. Question my judgment did you, Ancient Rome?"

"Good job Germany! There was no doubt!"

"America doesn't have the flag anymore, so stop glaring at my son, Rome!"

"Hmph. He doesn't deserve him, stupid potato bastard."

"So he pulled it off."

"He is so awesome! Pah! I knew he could do it! Kesesesese"

"Ah, so he found the flag, non? I am so glad!"

"EH? What are you doing here you frog bastard? Go back to your exile! AND PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!"

"Ah, Lithuania. One day I will live with you again, da?"

"RUSSIA? THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?...eh? where did all these pandas come from?"

Oblivious to those who watched, Germany and golden Italy gazed intently at each other and together spoke to Ancient Rome their greatest wish.

"Home, let's go home."

**END**


	10. Background Myths

ADDITIONAL NOTES  
Things left out of the epic, because an epic is built upon myths that should be known to all (but since I started with the epic, it's unknown)

- Denmark, son of Prussia and a mortal woman (who, I have no idea. Point is, he's a demigod), is impervious save for both his ankles as Prussia dipped him in the Daugava River with both hands. However, many of the gods believe that Prussia was a little too enthusiastic when he dunked his infant son into the river as Denmark is sometimes considered a little crazy (There's a lot of "Your son almost took of my son/daughter's head with his axe!). But then, Prussia just says that it's because the awesome gene has been passed onto his almost-as-awesome-as-him son.

- America, son of England and Seychelles, was also dunked into the Daugava River, but he's impervious/immortal completely with no weak points as England had the sense to turn America over and dip the ankles and feet too.

- And why yes, this is a sore point with Prussia (though he never would admit it). And yes, England does rub it into his face.

- In regards to the party stranded upon the Isle of France. North Korea beat some sense into her brother, and frightened the Nymphs so badly they dropped the allure on all the males who also got a stern screaming from N. Korea who accused them of affecting her brother via emotional osmosis. Even France was so frightened that he let them leave his island with all their virtue intact.

- Italy, god of the sun often has someone accompanying him to make sure he doesn't leap out of the chariot at the smallest sign of or cloud that resembles pasta. It is usually Hungary, as this way she has the perfect vantage point to observe who to pair up.

- Romano claims he's perfectly capable of driving his own chariot (which he is, actually)

- Although Spain doesn't show up here, I thought I should mention that he's the leader of the Cult of Romano (they daily place tomatoes upon the alter in offering).

- England also despairs about his son because America apparently would rather have Austria's shoes and zoom around in the clouds rather than go pirating sailing.

- Canada, the smith god, is the half brother of America, born from France and Seychelles. Seychelles was pregnant with the two at the same time, so they're twins, but since France didn't realize that Seychelles had been pregnant England swooped in and claimed both.

- Titan Japan original owned 5 cats. 1 with 1 head, 1 with 2 heads (which Germany killed), 1 with 3 heads (which Denmark kills/killed at some point in the unwritten mythology of the Hetalia Pantheon), 1 with 4 heads (That America kills later at some point, to prove he's more heroic than Germany and Denmark), and 1 with 5 heads. Fortunately, at some point 1 head and 5 head will have kittens and there will be more many headed cats for Japan to own, and Greece to coo over.

- Germania sent America on a quest because at some point America epically crashed an important wedding and as the god of marriage, Germania couldn't stand that. (What wedding, I'm not sure. Maybe Poland's and Lithuania's.)

- Oh and much to all the gods' annoyance, America is bff with Tony the ferryman of the underworld so he gets ferried about the underworld for free. (And you know that he definitely did a sightseeing trip, or maybe more than just once, for fun.)

And for those who wish to know how the tale of Italy and Germany ended…

They lived happily, with Germany doing his warrior thing and Italy tagging along when able (Because of course he had chariot the skies during the day.). Germany took good care of Italy, and Ancient Rome managed not to terrify the mortal too much. When Germany grew old and one of the three fates (they don't say who's who because they like to mess with everyone's heads, mortal and immortal alike) began to cut his thread, Italy begged Ancient Rome to save Germany. Ancient Rome, unable to ignore his favorite child's request then ascended Germany into immortality as the constellation "The Holy Roman Empire".

Whether or not he also exists in Mt. Roma as a minor god, is up to you.

Thank you to everyone who read this! (and sorry it took so long to finish posting). As always, reviews are much appreciated :)


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